afloat in tethers row” (in memory of South African poet Ingrid Jonker)
in three anchor bay
beneath an ever breaching wave
not of water
not of soil
but where drowning meets with chafe and heat
and open wounds still loathe to heal
awash in bugles coil with salt
yet pulsing far beyond our reach
others float like nesting crows
i knew you once or may yet still
in turn of tide
en masse
set sail
to bleached white sands long exposed to sun
drenched
cooled down by temperate flow
this shore is neither yours nor mine
to trample
touch or disavow
and castaway the chance to meet
amidships afloat in tethers row
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